


We Could Be Heroes

by Daelinia



Category: Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard - Rick Riordan
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-15
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-14 03:28:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5727994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daelinia/pseuds/Daelinia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mallory Keen is dead, now training day in the Halls of Valhalla. The skeletons in her closet are refusing to leave, however, and slowly but surely she must learn to lean on, trust, and care for Hall 19 Shield Brothers- at least, if she wants to make it to Ragnarok 'alive'. (GunderKeen fluff, with added adventure and Team Bonding. Will follow through the end of Gods of Asgard)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. We Could Be Heroes

_ Though nothing, nothing will keep us together _

_ We can beat them, forever and ever _

_ Oh we can be heroes, just for one day _

_ I, I will be king _

_ And you, you will be queen _

_ Though nothing will drive them away _

_ We can be heroes, just for one day _

_ We can be us, just for one day _

 

_ We Could Be Heroes- David Bowie _

 

The library was one of Mallory Keen’s favorite spots- though she’d never admit it to anyone. There was something peaceful about the smell of the tattered pages of books and leather, the creaking comfort of a well-used chair, and silence. When she had first started visiting the library, it had been to study up on books of war and tactics. Now, however, she liked to visit a different shelf every so often and read everything in it. Some were worse than others- she had voted to put the Romance section last. Tawdry tales of sexual encounters with unrealistic fictional people sounded like a special kind of torture she was hoping to put off until Ragnarok came and she hopefully died without having to read any of it, But overall, it had been entertaining. She’d made it through the fiction first, most of it going quickly and easily. The next shelf, however, she found herself staring down encyclopedias and text books that could probably be classified as weapons for all their weight, and she was starting to feel a little intimidated. 

“Need some help?” Augh. Gunderson. She was bound to run into him here eventually. He was working on his PhD or some such nonsense and that required library time and textbooks. She had managed sometimes to avoid detection in the library by going on days when Gunderson and Jefferson had been killed later in the afternoon- usually siege days-, so that she could be sure neither would be around while she explored and read to her heart’s content. They’d show up at dinner time none the wiser about how she’d spent her afternoon; probably assuming she trained as she did most afternoons. But mostly she went late at night after her hallmates had gone to bed because she often woke in the middle of the night with nightmares. Mostly the same thing over and over- her mother’s death, or the car bomb, the pain exploding in her eyeballs over and over until she woke up screaming.

And so she supposed he must be up late working on his paper and she just hadn't noticed him when she came in.

“Not from -you-.” she retorted, rolling her eyes, “I’m surprised you even know how to read. How do you see through all that hair?”

Her words seemed to roll right off of him, as they always did, and he shrugged, “Suit yourself. Try not to stab any more of them with your knife. The librarian was quite put off having to replace the last one.”

Mallory froze, her eyes opening wide. How had he known about that? That had been -years- ago, and she had been certain she’d hidden it somewhere no-one would find it. And how would they know it was -her- anyhow? She had gotten so frustrated with the ending of that book, she’d had to put an end to it. Since then, she’d learned to keep her knife in her pocket, rather than on the table.

“I saw you do it, Mallory Keen. I was in here working on my Master’s thesis.”

The girl scowled, angrily grabbing the nearest book off the shelf and opening it to somewhere in the middle, as though she had only been looking for the book she'd left off with and not a new one altogether, “Don't you ever sleep?” she snapped.

“Don't you?”

Mallory bit her lip. The dreams were still too fresh in her mind and she was finding it difficult to come up with biting retorts, “Not really,” she admitted. Even on nights she didn't go to the library, she usually ended up waking up and training until she passed back out.

Halfborn gave her a quizzical look, “Why not? I'm working on my thesis, and that takes up my evenings. But you…”

“Can't sleep,” she grouched, pretending to be engrossed in her book. It was some kind of anatomy text, as it turned out, because the picture she turned to on the next page had her making a face, “Gross.”

She may have been trying to ignore him, but she was feeling quite unsuccessful as he got to his feet, looking down at her until she felt she had to either meet his gaze or run out of the library screaming.

“Why do you have so much trouble sleeping?” She tried to pretend the concern in his voice was obnoxious- he knew she could take care of herself. There was no reason to be so worried.

Mallory’s eyes narrowed, as she glared angrily at the page in front of her, “What do you care?”

“I care.”

He was sitting across from her now, and she lifted her eyes to meet his at last, ready to snap a retort. But there was a softness in them that stopped her in her tracks. Her heart beat so fast she felt like it might burst, her breathing hitched, her cheeks red as she found herself admitting the truth, “I have nightmares. They wake me up, so, I come here and read sometimes to get my mind off them.”

Halfborn nodded thoughtfully,  “happens to most of us…” He stood up, walking over to shut the books he had been referencing and pick up those along with his notebook, “Come with me, Mallory Keen.”

She wanted to hate the way he always said her whole name, but she didn't. Vikings, from what she had read so far, always used both titles. It was something of a form of respect. She knew that Halfborn found T.J’s insistence on being called only by two letters exceedingly strange, and so she let it go. And in fact, had come to enjoy it. It was like his own particular nickname for her. She did hate the way he was attempting to order her around without explanation, however.

“Where are we going?” Why was she going with him at all? She hated Halfborn Gunderson! He was infuriatingly rude. They fought near constancy most of the time- he had funny ideas about how women should behave if they were off the battlefield and she had spent the better part of the past decade trying to rid him of them.

And yet. He looked at her with such gentleness sometimes. It had been a long time since anyone looked at her like that, not since her mother died when she was a child. And frustrating as it might be sometimes, she believed him when he said that he cared. And so, against her better judgment and in strict violation of her oath to never let anyone close to her again, she followed him out of the library.

“When T.J. first got here, he had nightmares as well,” the Viking explained, “this worked for him, til they went away.”

Mallory rolled her eyes at him- it was hard to imagine T.J Sunshine having nightmares, “So you have some kind of magic nightmare cure?”

Halfborn grinned widely at her, setting her heart fluttering again and she cursed her body for betraying her. Smiles like that ought to be illegal. “Something like that.”

Before long, they were on Hall 19 and Halfborn opened the door to his quarters, motioning to her to enter. She gave him a hard look, “I don't think-”

He shrugged, “We could go into your quarters instead…”

“No!” she cringed at her outburst, hoping T.J didn't hear it and wake up. She did not want Gunderson in her room, to be sure. He'd see her pictures, her stuff...no. Setting her jaw with determination,  she entered his room.

It was dimly lit, and smelled strongly of grass. Most of the room was one large area with a campfire in the middle, with the bathroom, kitchen, and sleeping area all more ‘sections’ than rooms. The campfire seemed to be the only lighting in the place, and there was a mattress on the floor for a bed. Weapons were placed all over the walls, with books on a small table. She focused on these rather than on whatever it was that Halfborn was doing.

It turned out that he was only sitting on the bed, and he cleared his throat for her attention,  motioning her to sit in the chair next to it. She sat, watching him curiously,  “What… ?”

He smiled again, and began to sing. The girl shifted uncomfortably in her chair.  She hadn't known Halfborn was a singer, though she supposed with his gift for languages she couldn't be too surprised.  But what exactly was she supposed to be doing while he sang? And how was it supposed to help her nightmares go away?

She settled back with her head against the wall, watching the flames of the campfire flicker. Halfborn must have grown up in a hut like this. She'd read about that sort of thing in history classes, of course, but the reality was a completely different thing. It looked...warmer than she had expected. Cold stone walls, maybe, but lit by dancing firelight that made it feel more homey.

Halfborn’s voice was a soft hum in the back of her mind at this point, and her eyes were starting to feel heavy, but she refused to fall asleep, instead tilting her head to examine the weapons. She'd seen him use most of them already, of course. Some more often than others. He preferred his axes in general, but she had seen him use sword and polearm and halberd. She'd even seen him use a bow and arrow occasionally- usually during dragon days.

Her eyes fell on a strange looking weapon by the table with his books and things, and she paused her examination for a moment to contemplate it. It was long and wooden, with a hook like end. It didn't look particularly dangerous. The shape of the hooked end kept it from being properly useful as a staff, and there was no metal for slashing or even a tip on the end for piercing.

“What is that one for?” she asked, jerking her chin sleepily in that direction. Halfborn paused a moment,  and she turned to meet his gaze. A sad look had come over it- something she'd never seen before, and privately hoped she never would again.

“It is a shepherd's crook,” he advised her quietly, “not a weapon. I brought it with me from a mission very early in my days in Valhalla.”

He looked so forlorn that she dare not ask any further questions, but instead dragged herself from the chair to take a spot next to him on the bed, nodding solemnly, “A memory.”

He nodded, quiet, and she nudged his shoulder with her own, “Go on and sing again.”

There was that softening of his gaze again, and she decided not to cut his arm off when he wrapped it around her shoulders and began singing again. Her eyes went to the fire again and before long she found her cheek had drooped onto his shoulder and her eyes were closed and before she knew it she was deep in slumber.

~~~~

 

For some reason, she was waking up to the smell of campfire and leather and...sheep? With a start, she was on her feet, knife at the ready. A bundle of blankets now at her feet stirred, and she kicked it before charging towards the door. 

“Ow! Whoa, hey, Mallory Keen, calm down!”

It took her another few seconds for her heart to stop pounding long enough to realize the voice was Halfborn Gunderson’s, and a deep flush crept up her cheeks as she realized that she was still in his room, “I fell asleep in here?” it was a rhetorical question. Of course she had fallen asleep, “why didn't you wake me?”

He shrugged, yawning and stretching as the blankets fell off him to expose his bare, hairy chest. During battle, she hardly noticed or cared that he was shirtless. Her mind was on slicing and slashing and surviving, then. But, in this more...intimate setting…

The pink in her cheeks grew darker as she pointedly looked away before he could catch her staring at him- why did he have to sleep half naked? Oh gods, please let him be only -half- naked. If he was about to climb out of that pile of rags nude as the day he was born, she was pretty sure she would die right then and there. This whole situation was ridiculous. Mallory Keen did not fluster and fawn over boys like this!  She was a warrior!

“T.J always fell asleep in here too. Said it helped to have the company. I figured it'd be better to just make up a bed for myself and leave you be.”

Mallory turned around as he got up, afraid to see what he might or might not be wearing, and shook her head, “Now I have to sneak out before T.J wakes up and sees me.”

She could hear the grin in Gunderson’s voice and reached for the dagger she kept in her shorts before realizing he had taken it out before lying her down on the bed, “Wouldn't want him to get the wrong idea, hmm, Mallory Keen?”

The redhead spun on her heel, “I don't think T.J is stupid enough to think I would do anything of the sort with such a...a….” But her words died on her lips because she was looking at him again and Odin but he was a solid block of muscle and hair, wasn't he? At least he did in fact have on pants- even if they were garish boxers and hung loose on his hips in a way that made her heart beat even more rapidly.

She spun around again. He could keep her knife. She had more. She couldn't do this right now. She needed a shower and some coffee and a gods damned sword with which to stab the heart out of his furry chest so that maybe her own would stop beating so loudly in her ears. She slammed the door behind her, with Halfborn laughing ever more loudly as she left.

  
  


~~~~

 

_ She was running again. Not away- never away. Mallory Keen always ran towards danger, rather than away from it. Particularly when others were in trouble. The clock was ticking down, tick tick tick, red letters spelling out the end of her life as she tried desperately to find a way to stop it. It was all her fault- why had she fallen for his charming words? At least she’d managed to warn everyone. Maybe some of them would still die, she didn’t know, but she was going to do her best….she picked up a crowbar off the floor of the car and started hitting the stupid bomb underneath. Maybe if she could just break it….boom! Red red red flash, flames, searing pain, feeling like her eyes were exploding… _

She gasped, sitting up in bed. Car bomb again. Ten years of this dream, and her mother’s death interspersed occasionally with the hot blood of battles fought and won here in Valhalla, and she was still waking up nearly every night. She climbed out of bed, sighing. Mallory had spent the past three weeks avoiding the library in the evenings rather than risk running into Halfborn Gunderson again. But this was getting ridiculous. It was getting harder to get back to sleep- the past few nights she’d only had a few hours before the nightmare set in and then she’d been wide awake training until breakfast.

Sighing, she threw the blankets off of her legs and sat on the edge of the bed, reaching for the photo album at her bedside. She flipped through the pages. Pictures of her as a baby, toddler, little girl. The pictures all but stopped after her mother died when she was seven. The only photos after that were from softball team photos or Judo class, or the school newspaper. It was the same album that had sat on her bedside for ten years before she’d died and she had burst into tears the moment she saw it sitting in her room alongside her mother’s sweater, her stuffed bear, and the curtain of threaded colored glass separating her bedroom from the living area.

Mallory’s fingers traced the familiar lines of her mother’s face briefly, then slammed the book shut, setting it on her bedside table again. Bare feet padded on the floor as she pulled a pair of sweatpants on underneath her night shirt and walked out of her room. She’d been putting it off- but the truth was that the only night she’d slept through without having nightmares in the past few weeks had been the one when she’d fallen asleep in Halfborn Gunderson’s room. He’d said that T.J. no longer had nightmares...so if the only way to be free of them was to suffer through Halfborn’s singing for a few nights...well, she was willing to try it at this point.

She tapped on the door to his room, cringing as she did so. She really, really hoped that T.J was a sound sleeper. The last thing she needed was for him to come out here and ask why she was trying to get into Halfborn Gunderson’s room at midnight. Not that T.J was stupid enough to think she had other reasons, of course. She was certain he wasn’t. Because she didn’t have other reasons. She just wanted to sleep again- the deprivation was starting to show in her ability on the field. She’d been killed so much more quickly the past two days...and there, the door was opening and there was that stupid Viking with his shirt off and his boxers so low she could almost see...she jerked her eyes up to meet his as he rubbed sleep from them, a small smile on his lips,

“Can’t sleep?” his voice was soft, not nearly as teasing as she had expected and it caught her off guard as he opened the door wider for her to come in. 

She was still too tired and too flustered and drawn in by that look he'd given her, and now his hand was brushing hers, twining his fingers through hers, and she found herself actually pulled towards him rather than just metaphorically.  

It caught her off guard, and she stumbled into his chest, looking up at him with a scowl that faded the moment she saw the warmth of the smile he was giving her, “well, if you wanted a hug…” he wrapped his arms around her, and if she wasn't already so unbalanced she would have stabbed him with the knife in her sweats, but as it was, she let him squeeze her tightly. 

He smelled like leather and metal and sheep, just like his room and her senses must have been briefly overwhelmed because she could not stop staring at him, mouth agape, “Halfborn Gunderson!” she protested weakly. He laughed, and the sound woke something in her, so that rather than punching him in the face as she normally would, she eyed him curiously, “why are you doing this?”

He shrugged, “You stink on the battlefield when you don’t sleep.” his voice was teasing, and he let go of her, motioning to the bed, “You can sit there if you like. Better than passing out in the chair- first time T.J fell asleep in that chair, he gave himself a concussion falling out. It was pretty funny, but then you’d have to stay awake until it healed.”

Mallory nodded, sticking her hands in deeply in her pockets and settling on the mattress, her legs crossed,

“I do not stink on the battlefield. Ever.” 

Gunderson laughed and sat next to her, shoulder-to-shoulder. 

“And put a shirt on! Or at least some proper pants!”’

The laugh got even louder as he shook his head, “Am I distracting you?”

The girl gave him a scowl that might curdle milk, but had little effect on the boy who’d been on the receiving end of it for a decade already, “No. But a shirt will give you a little more protection when I decide I’ve had enough of your warbling and stab you until I fall asleep.”

He bumped her shoulder with his, “You could always go back in your room with the nightmares.”

She shook her head, pulling her knees to her chest, “all right. Point made. Go on with your Viking voodoo.”

His face became soft, wistful, “it's not voodoo. They're lullabies. We used to sing about everything- bed, meals, battle. It helped tie us all together.”

He draped an arm over her shoulder, and she decided not to remove it, because he was warm and she was exhausted. Instead, she let her head fall onto his shoulder, closing her eyes, “You should sing a battle song on the field some time. You're not a terrible singer, and maybe you'd fight better.”

Halfborn’s chuckle was a rumbling sound that she found comforting now that she was warm with firelight flickering against her cheeks, “Perhaps I will.”

And then he started singing. A quiet, soothing tune that had her yawning quickly enough. She felt him shift after a few moments, gently settling her sideways onto the bed and getting up to make up his own sleeping arrangements as she drifted off to sleep to his gentle humming.

 

~~~~

 

This time, Mallory remembered where she was the moment the smells hit her nose. She was still on her side, having had no dreams that she could remember and so not thrashed around all night long the way she usually did. Halfborn seemed to be still asleep buried under his pile of blankets, and she carefully climbed out of bed, watching for a moment as they rose and fell with his breaths. 

Why was he being so kind to her? He’d said he had done the same for T.J, but it was easy to be nice to T.J. She even did it herself sometimes- T.J was a fun and friendly variety, off the battlefield. But she? She’d never been anything but bitter and angry and hateful. She’d never had more than a couple of friends after her mother’s death, and then after the car bomb...well, she had sworn since Aaron’s betrayal that she’d not let anyone that close again.

But, this was different. She wasn’t going to fall in -love- with Halfborn Gunderson, despite what her stupid teenage hormones might think. Wouldn't it be okay to just have a friend, though? To actually -be- a shield sister to him and T.J? At least behind closed doors? It didn’t mean she had to stop razzing them- both of them did enough stupid things to give her material for the rest of their afterlife. And wouldn’t it be easier to face eternity without keeping completely to herself? They were put into these groups for a reason. She was supposed to trust these boys with her life. It would probably be a lot easier to do that if she maybe, just occasionally, let them know she didn’t really hate them.

“Morning.”

His nose was barely poking out of the blankets before he greeted her, and she watched as he cleared them away, watching her, “sleep okay?”

She nodded, waiting for the other shoe to drop. But nothing happened. He climbed out of his blanket pile wearing nothing but his boxers again, and she felt her ears turn fiercely red, but chose to ignore it. Sighing, she tossed her mane of red curls and blew one out of her face, “Why are you being so nice to me?” she asked, biting her lip and finally catching his eyes as he rubbed the sleep away.

The Viking shrugged, “You are my shield sister, whether you like it or not.”

Mallory Keen got to her feet, bare toes digging into the dirt floor, “Thank you.”

His arms were around her again, and she sighed, but accepted it, “You are welcome, Mallory Keen. Any time. Day or night. T.J. and I are here for you.”

Mallory returned the squeeze tentatively,  and then pulled out of his arms, “now, no offense but I have to pee, so I'm heading back to my room. See you at breakfast.”

Her cheeks furiously red, she left the room, closing the door just in time to see T.J. turn around and smile at her, “Nightmares?” he asked. She nodded, the warmth on her cheeks making it clear to her that they were as bright as her hair.

The civil war soldier tilted his head to the side, “If you ever want to talk about it...just, y’know, remember that Halfborn and I have been through a lot, too.”

Her eyes narrowed briefly in skepticism, but he put his hands in the air in a motion of surrender, “Hey, if you’re not ready, that’s cool too. We have an eternity, take your time.”

Mallory nodded, though she still had a hard time believing anything in T.J’s life had been less than sunshine and roses, deep down. She knew, realistically, that he’d been fighting in a -war- long before she was born, and there were horrors associated with that she’d only come to know in the past ten years. And that his mother had been a slave, his father had been Tyr...and so, giving proper credit, his life had probably been as difficult as hers, if not worse Still. He always seemed so -cheerful-.

“And we won’t think any less of you,” T.J. was rambling on, “Nobody who’s ever met you would think you were weak at all. It’s okay to have feelings sometimes…”

Mallory put a hand on his shoulder, meeting his eyes for what was probably the first real time since she’d gotten there, “One day,” she promised, “But not today.”

The boy nodded, smiling, “I know. But, when you're ready.”

She let her hand drop from his shoulder, “I'll be back out for breakfast. Try not to miss me too much.”

 

**Author’s Note: Hello there! I know this is not great, but it’s better than everything else I’ve written in the past year, so I’m trying out publishing once again. I promise more T.J in the next chapter, and slightly less fluff with a lot more backstory. I’ve already got a good chunk of this whole story written so hopefully things will be posted very quickly before my muse runs away. Overall going to be pretty fluffy Gunderkeen stuff, but I want to explore the family/friendship aspect and I’m pushing myself to do some exciting adventure stuff too! Obviously this will end up AU since I’m going into backstory stuff that will likely be expanded on by Mr. Riordan and be completely different from this.**

 


	2. Fighter

_After all of the stealing and cheating_

_You probably think that_

_I hold resentment for you_

_But uh uh, oh no, you're wrong_

_'Cause if it wasn't for all_

_That you tried to do_

_I wouldn't know just how capable I am to pull through_

_So I wanna say thank you_

_'Cause it_

_Makes me that much stronger_

_Makes me work a little bit harder_

_Makes me that much wiser_

_So thanks for making me a fighter_

_Made me learn a little bit faster_

_Made my skin a little bit thicker_

_Makes me that much smarter_

_So thanks for making me a fighter_

_Fighter- Christina Aguilera_

 

The first time she saw Halfborn Gunderson fight, she had been so shocked- whether by his abs or his fighting style, or by the whole place in general, she’d never know- that she had died within moments, having barely lifted her sword. The first time she saw T.J. fight, really fight, she had realized just how little idea she had of what she was doing. They’d tried to baby her a bit, watch her back, warn her when an attack was incoming. She ignored them, dodged them, went off on her own. She died pretty quickly that day, too.

But Mallory Keen was a born fighter. She had been born months too early, struggling to live from the very first breath she almost failed to take. And so it was no surprise to anyone that she had spent the first decade of her afterlife fighting with Halfborn Gunderson and T.J. She would come out of her quarters scowling, make some kind of nasty comment, which Halfborn would answer, and then she’d stalk off, furious, and train. Oh, how she trained. She had never really used a proper weapon before, and it infuriated her to die so quickly on the battlefield. To make up for it, she worked harder than she ever had on her life- teaching herself to use a sword or axe, knife or bow.

Now, however, she was learning how to share her fight with others, to trust them, to give something of herself to them. And so, when she and T.J and Halfborn sat in the common room late into the night, long after she had stopped visiting Gunderson for midnight lullabies, she started to tell them her story. She sat down in her favorite chair one evening, and with a thud settled her photo album onto the table in front of them.

“That’s it,” she said softly, daring either of them to say anything with her eyes, but neither seemed up to the challenge- or perhaps they sensed that if they made a comment, she would pick the book back up and leave...which she probably would. The girl flipped the book open, revealing the first photo- a woman with frizzy red curls and green eyes identical to Mallory sat on a hideously printed couch, a green kerchief barely keeping said curls at bay as she peered glowingly down at the tiny wrapped bundle in her arms.

“My mother, Sylvia.”

“She looks just like you.” T.J’s voice was soft, tentative, and Halfborn clapped him on the shoulder with a barking laugh, “I don’t know, she’s missing the scowl.”

Mallory gave him a dark look, but continued on, “She was an artist. She painted, crafted, sculpted, created something new from everything she touched. She was full of light and beauty. Everything she touched just...came to life.”

She flipped the page, another picture- this time her mother was standing with a tall man with mouse-brown hair and blue eyes. He wore a rather severe looking suit, but the expression on his face when he looked at her was adoring,

“My dad. He loved my mother more than anything. Mum came over to the London from Ireland with her grandparents when she was a little girl, but Dad was born there. His family disowned him when he married her- she told me she used to fight with them all the time. They wanted her to be a meek, obedient wife who spent her days in the kitchen and cleaning house. But, Mum wasn’t like that at all. She carved her own path, never asked anyone for help, lived her life on her terms and nobody else's.”

Mallory looked up, and saw that both boys were watching her with fascination. Halfborn grinned widely at her, “Well, at least we know where you got your winning personality from.”

She threw her knife at him, and he caught it deftly from the air, tossing it back as she turned another page. This had several photos- her as a toddler, covered in paint on a dropcloth with her father looking exasperated in the background, her first day of Kindergarten, her riding a bike for the first time, smiling a wide gap-toothed grin.

“When I was seven, Mum started getting sick. Cancer. Dad and I watched her slowly waste away, watched her inner light get snuffed out day by day. She fought it til the very end, but there just wasn’t any way…” 

Tears she hadn’t known were gathering in her eyes trailed down her cheeks, and in a flash T.J had an arm around her shoulder, and Halfborn one around her waist,

“You don’t have to…” T.J started, but the shook her head, pressing her palms to her eyes to stop the floodgates,

“No, I do. I owe you the whole story- you have to know…” she took a deep breath, “You guys are my family, now.”

Gunderson rested his chin on the top of her head, and T.J put his chin on her shoulder, and she flipped the page again. She was a teenager now, about thirteen in these photos.

“Dad had always been really busy- he worked all the time. When he came home, though, he put work away and made everything all about Mum. I mean, I guess he liked me too, but it was pretty obvious even to me, when I was little, that she was his whole world. So, when she died, he just kinda….broke.”

She bit her lip, tapping the photo where a young blonde boy sat next to her on a park bench, a few other people gathered around it. She decided she wasn’t ready to tell them about Aaron, though, and glossed over the details a bit.

“ I...with dad working all the time, and drinking when he was home, I started doing everything on my own. I was riding my bike out to get groceries by the time I was 10, cooking for myself, doing laundry, all that kind of thing. I’d stay out to all hours in the evenings too. Playing with friends when I was little, but then when I got bigger...well. I got into trouble a lot..Got involved with some bad people, including someone with the Irish Republican Army. They were the ones who set up the car bomb that I died trying to disarm. ”

She flipped through the next few pages pretty quickly. Nothing really interesting there- just stuff from her extracurriculars in high school, they didn't need to know all the details, she told herelf. She wasn't ready to talk about Aaron yet, and the way he’d hurt her, made her trust him, made her believe...She’d traded the bat away as soon as she found someone who wanted it. She’d hated that thing, and the reminders it had carried. Aaron had always come to her softball games- he loved baseball, collected the cards and followed the players religiously.

Quietly, T.J removed his arm from her shoulders and disappeared for a moment, coming back with three sleeping bags, 

“Lets sleep out here tonight,” he suggested. Mallory gave him a grateful smile as she climbed silently into hers, with Halborn on her left and T.J on her right.. Dredging up old memories was sure to bring the nightmares back, and she knew she would sleep better with her shield-brothers beside her.

~~~

  


Mondays were the Viking version of Capture the Flag. They divided into teams, generally two halls per team, and one person would hide a flag. Then, battle would commence- but the main goal was not necessarily to completely decimate the other team. Instead, you were to try and get the flag as quickly as possible. She liked this better than Siege days (which she found tediously boring) but less than free-for-all Tuesdays. There was a lot of strategy involved, and because she was so small, Mallory got to do less taking out enemies and was more often expected to be the one to sneak into the enemy camp and steal the flag.

Today, however, they were teamed up with a different Hall than usual. Most of the time they paired up with Halfborn’s old squad in Hall 5, but looking around, Mallory realized that the entire squad was missing from the field as teams gathered and started discussing strategies. It was unusual, though not unheard of, for an entire team to skip morning battle training. Usually only if they were on a Quest, though occasionally a team just needed a break from the constant rigors of battle. They’d just seen them the day before, however, and while some of them looked uneasy, they hadn’t mentioned taking the day off today.

Mallory couldn’t shake the feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach, but she pushed it away. They were not -her- shield brothers. Those two were gathered close with the rest of their group, discussing how best to capture the flag of the combined forces of Halls 4 and 13. They had a former track star on their team, and so it was unanimously decided that he would be the fetch-er with Mallory as backup. So, she’d have to tail him just in case he got taken out. At least she’d still have an opportunity to slice some people open, though.

She waved a quick goodbye to the rest of the team as the track star- James- headed for a tree to scout out the position of their enemy team. T.J was tasked with hiding their flag, so he went off in the opposite direction while Mallory waited at the bottom of the tree, sword at the ready. She rather hoped the other team was stupid enough to leave a large group around their flag. She liked the idea of having to carve her way through the masses- she was still feeling a bit off, and nothing could pull her out of a funk quite the same way as sinking her knife into the belly of some fool.

She got her wish shortly after. James didn’t see anything particularly obvious as far as hiding spots go, and so the two of them slink through whatever cover they can find, listening, waiting, watching. Eventually, they came across a pair of ‘enemy’ warriors and Mallory grinned widely, “C’mon, let’s take ‘em,” she whispered, “We can knock them out and give our teammates an advantage. Plus, they’re in our way.”

James looked hesitant, but obviously spotted the determination in her stance, because the boy shrugged and got to his feet. Within seconds, Mallory had darted forward, sword slashing towards the bigger of the pair- a girl with a long blonde braid down her back. Mallory couldn’t remember what the girl’s name was, but she did know she was from Hall 13 and hadn’t been around very long. If she’d realized that before zeroing in on her, she’d have left the girl for James- she wanted more of a challenge.

Still, the blonde managed to get her sword out before Mallory cut her head off, and that was something. Her blocks were weak, however, and the red-head knew it would only be a matter of time before she’d push through her defenses. A slash to her forehead, block, a knife to the side, shield, a kick at the knees..ah, there, the bigger girl was down and Mallory sunk her serrated dagger into the girl’s neck, “Better luck next time,” she grinned as the light went out of her eyes and blood seeped down her chest in crimson rivulets.

Mallory spun around, checking on her companion. The smaller of the pair they had spotted was deceptively quick, light on her feet, and clearly more experienced than Mallory had realized. James was fast enough to dodge her attacks for the most part, but he was going to wear himself out, and there was enough strength behind her strikes that Mallory was certain he’d be toast if she didn’t intervene. Luckily, intervening was exactly what she had in mind anyways.

As the dark-haired girl’s gigantic sword swung towards James’ legs, Mallory slipped her own blade across the girl’s shoulder, causing her to swing around leading with her shield-hand in an attempt to clock Mallory in the head. She missed, owing to her lack of knowledge on the red-head’s exact position, as well as Mallory being awesome in general. James slipped out of the reach of the oversized sword while waiting for a better opportunity to attack. The dark-haired girl growled at Mallory,

“Is that all you’ve got?”

Her green eyes rolled as she met the blade swinging towards her neck with her own, ducking underneath it and aiming her dagger at the other girl’s side. It nicked her, but the girl managed to slide right quickly enough to avoid the worst of it,

“I'm just getting warmed up.”

While a one on two fight wasn't quite the joyful chaos of battle she'd been hoping for, at least she had a capable opponent. She would have been fine with James sitting it out, but either chivalry or bloodlust got the best of him and he went in for another hack at the dark haired girl’s knee while Mallory spun around her back, not wanting to be in front of that huge sword.

Unfortunately for James, the girl was agile with her weapon despite its size- really, who needed a sword as long as they were? - and the blade came down hard on his arm, slicing half the skin from his bones. No matter how many times you've died, or how adjusted you think you are to pain, getting your arm halfway flayed stings like mad, and the boy let out a loud yelp, dropping his sword.

Mallory managed to slide her dagger between the girl’s ribs, but it wasn't enough to kill her, and she managed to swing her sword with enough weight to slice clean through James’ neck while his weapon was down and he was distracted by his arm. The redhead cursed. Now she was faced with a dilemma: keep up the fight and risk possibly getting decapitated as well- a small risk, but one nonetheless….or run so that she could try to capture the flag, rather than let her team lose.

Mallory hated running, but she also hated losing. Her curses were more colorful as she wrested her dagger from the girl’s ribcage and ducked as the sword swung back around when the dark haired girl spun to face her. This was it. Run now and secure victory, or fight and possibly die, leaving her team in the lurch.

Her sword sliced towards the girl almost of its own volition, and Mallory used it as a distraction, turning to run off, try to lose her. The girl’s sword clipped her leg, however, and Mallory grimaced briefly as her thigh stung when she lifted her foot. That'd slow her up more than she liked, but she ignored the stream of crimson dripping down her calf and pooling in her sneakers, focusing instead on getting away so she could complete her mission.

The girl gave chase, of course, but Mallory was quicker since she didn't have to lug around a sword that probably weighed half again as much as she did, and she was smart enough to take advantage of the river she heard rushing by so that the blood wouldn't leave a trail to follow. After a while, she heard the girl curse loudly and turn away- presumably to join the rest of her team in battle.

She felt like a stinking coward for slinking away like this, and the dull throb of the slice in her thigh seemed worse than usual because of it. Briefly, she kicked at the water in frustration before pulling out a piece of cloth from her pocket and wrapping up the wound to keep the blood from slipping her up while it healed. Then, she found the nearest tree and climbed, ignoring the agony in her leg as she had learned how to do quite well over the past decade.

Her leg was shaking uncontrollably by the time she got into a good position to check out how the battle was going, and she took a moment to let it rest, noting that there were only a few small pockets of fighting here and there, and no flare had been sent up to signal the end of the game and a flag captured.

There was a pair of the opposing team stationed by a rocky outcropping a few miles to the East, and she figured that if they were just standing around, there was a good chance they were guarding something. She checked her leg underneath the bandage, and noted that the healing had at least begun, but she would still probably be limping the whole way there. And then she'd have to fight the two guards by herself.

Grinning at the idea of such a challenge, Mallory clambered out of the tree, willing the adrenaline through her veins to keep her leg from interfering with her walk too much as she angled off in the direction of the rocks. She wondered, as she walked, if her shield brothers were still alive. She hoped so- the second worst part of being sent on retrieval duty was not knowing how the fight was going. Still, they'd both be back before dinner even if they were already dead, so she pushed her worries away and focused on the task at hand.

When she reached the spot she'd decided was their hiding place, only one of the boys was there any longer. The other might have gotten called off to fight, or maybe he was scouting around or hiding in wait for any oncomers. Either way, she was done sneaking about and her leg was feeling a lot better, so she charged forward hoping to catch the one remaining off balance.

It worked, a little. She managed a good strike through his shoulder before he twisted out if the way, axe swinging low to clip her already injured thigh. Mallory growled, dropping to her knee and sweeping his legs out from under him with her uninjured leg. The boy crashed to the ground and the red head quickly scrambled to her feet, pushing the pain to the back of her mind, though her leg still refused to function at max capacity and she had to center her weight on her other leg.

A jab of the sword met axe, but gravity was on her side and she merely pushed the axe back down towards her opponent, causing it to bite deeply into his chest. Gasping, he tried to push her away with his feet, swing out the axe to hit her from the side, but she had the advantage and she had nearly managed to run him through again when the first arrow struck between her shoulderblades.

Muttering darkly, Mallory swung her blade wide as the impact knocked her off course, and the boy's axe struck a bloody slash across her chest. She felt her lungs starting to collapse from the impact and cursed again. Luckily, she recovered enough from this double hit to slice across the throat of the boy still on the ground while the second arrow found its mark in her left hip. Between that and her thigh, she could barely stand any longer, but then she noticed a scrap of yellow fabric and cheered.  Whoever that archer was wouldn't be fast enough to catch her before she grabbed it, and Mallory let out a victory shout, scrabbling at the rocks to lift them away with the last of her strength. She had just enough energy to wrap her fingers around the piece of fabric and see the resulting flare before she slipped into unconsciousness.

~~~~

When she awoke, she was sprawled on the couch in the lounge of Hall 19. Her wounds had been dressed and were well on their way to healing. She had clearly not died, and neither had T.J because he was seated cross legged at her feet, scratching out words in one of his journals. He was almost always writing something in their off times, and had once told her that he had a journal of his mother’s that had sparked his interest in doing so. She understood that as well as anybody, having been close to her mother as well, and so she only rarely made fun of him for it- and only when she knew he’d take it as the affectionate ribbing she was offering up.

She groaned, rolling over and giving herself a moment to actually feel all the aches and pains in her body before pulling herself into a seated position, 

“Halfborn got himself killed?” she asked. T.J nodded, “Some girl with a sword as long as she was stabbed him right through.”

Mallory cursed- if she’d just killed the girl when she had the chance...well, it wasn’t like Gunderson wasn’t used to getting killed on a near-daily basis. And they’d won, so it was worth it in the end. T.J’s shirt was off, his union jacket covering only a series of bandages wrapped around his waist. The red head took a moment to really look at him, realizing once again just how small and young he really was. She had to remind herself, on these occasions, that he was not only just a few years younger than herself, but he was also a capable soldier. She stretched, yawning, “How long was I out?”

T.J shrugged, “It’s about two, so I’d guess three or four hours? You know how hard it is to tell time when we’re on the field.”

Mallory nodded, tilting her head thoughtfully, “How come you’re sitting here instead of training or something?”

The curly-haired boy sighed, snapping his journal shut and setting it on the side table along with the pen he’d been using to write in it,

“I got some news about..well. From Hall 5. Sigurd jumped into the Ginnungagap last night.”

A few of those colorful Gaelic curses escaped Mallory’s lips, and she rested her chin on her hand thoughtfully as T.J leaned back against the couch cushions. Neither of them had really known Sigurd, but they’d liked him well enough...even if he’d started getting a little reclusive and spacey lately. But Halfborn...well, Sigurd had been one of his shield brothers before he’d volunteered to move to Hall 19 when T.J came along. While this wasn’t the first friend the Viking had lost, it was the first of his Shield Brothers to be so completely and utterly gone, and it was hard to tell how he was going to take the news.

“How do you think we should tell him?” the boy’s voice was soft, almost scared, and Mallory frowned. She didn’t know why he was asking -her-. He’d been Halfborn’s Shield Brother for over a century before Mallory showed up- shouldn’t he know better how to handle him? But the fact was that T.J. had always been better with -good- news than with bad news, and Mallory was usually able to separate herself enough from the situation to circumvent the inherent negativity of bad news somewhat. That is- she sounded like enough of a terrible person to cushion the blow, making the news receiver more angry with her than upset about the situation. It was one of her many strengths.

“I’ll take care of it,” she assured him. She wasn’t sure her usual approach would be best in this situation- she’d have to follow Halfborn’s lead. But she wasn’t about to make T.J handle it if he wasn’t comfortable. The kid had enough on his plate as it was, trying to deal with his own emotions on it all. Mallory had known Sigurd the least, so it made sense that she’d be the strong one for both of them.

"Wanna shoot some virtual bad guys?" she asked. T.J perked visibly at the mention of his other favorite pasttime- video games,

"Absolutely!"

 

~~~~

 

It was only an hour or so before dinner when Halfborn's door opened. She'd been hanging about the lounge after playing shooter games with T.J for a few hours, reading and training alternately while waiting for him to regenerate.

"Mallory Keen!" he greeted her warmly, "Were we victorious?"

The girl nodded, uncrossing her legs and stretching them out in front of her on the couch,

"Come sit with me?"

Halfborn's smile faltered somewhat, but he sat down beside her, and she pressed her back against his shoulder,

"Sigurd left us last night."

She could feel the Viking's body tense next to her, and his head tilted downwards for a moment, paying homage to his old friend. He sighed as she adjust to rest her head against his shoulder, letting him process the information. She wasn't sure what to expect, really- and she was a bit surprised as he wrapped his arms around her and smiled,

"Then tonight, we raise a glass in his honor," he assured her, "It may not have been the most honorable death, but he deserves as much for the time he spent and the lives he touched."

Sliding her arm around his waist as well, she squeezed him against her in a tight hug, "Agreed." She wondered, briefly, what she would do if Halfborn or T.J lost their will to fight, lost their minds as they had already seen so many do, or jumped to their doom. Shivering, she pushed the thoughts aside- she would make -sure- that never happened. This was her home, and they were her brothers, and she was -not- going to lose them, not ever.

"You...okay?" she asked gently, and Halfborn shook his head, "As okay as ever. It's not easy, losing friends. But the best way I have found to cope is to make sure they are never forgotten."

Mallory nodded,

"All right. But, if you need to talk..." she kissed his cheek softly, getting to her feet and stretching again, "So. How many strikes did that girl with the sword get in before she took you down?"

Halfborn looked at her with some incomprehensible expression on his face for a moment before seeming to shake himself free of it,

"Four. I managed to take down the other two while she hit me, but she got in a good strike to the head in the end. We ought to seek her out tomorrow during battle- it's a good idea to learn how to fight against such a weapon. The giants at Ragnarok will likely use something just as large."

Mallory nodded, grinning, "Oh, I have a feeling it won't be difficult getting her to attack us- she seemed pretty angry with me for taking out her friend too easily."

Halfborn ruffled her hair, "That's our girl!" she decided just this once not to cut off his hand for it. He was going through enough as it is, she should probably cut him some slack, still, she couldn't take it -too- easy on him or they'd think she was -really- going soft,

"I hate you."

That smile that made her heart flutter again, and she regretted not stabbing him when she had the chance as he uttered a simple,

"I know."

**Author’s Note: This one is coming out super fast only because I juuuust got an account here and already had two chapters finished. Next chapter will likely be in about a week. So. Phew! Fight scenes obviously aren't really my forte, but I'm trying to push out of my comfort zone, so hopefully it wasn't too bad. Next chapter is a quest, so quality will probably be similar as those are outside my usual fluffy one shot comfort zone as well.**


	3. There Goes My Hero

_ Too alarmin' now to talk about _

_ Take your pictures down and shake it out _

_ Truth or consequence, say it aloud _

_ Use that evidence, race it around _

_ There goes my hero _

_ Watch him as he goes _

_ There goes my hero _

_ He's ordinary _

_ Don't the best of them bleed it out _

_ While the rest of them peter out? _

_ Truth or consequence, say it aloud _

_ Use that evidence, race it around _

_ There goes my hero _

_ Watch him as he goes _

_ There goes my hero _

_ He's ordinary _

 

_ There Goes My Hero- Foo Fighters  _

  
  


**I'm going to die here. For real this time.**

 

The thought came unbidden to Mallory’s mind as the witch’s lips moved, her staff pointed in the red head’s direction as two draugr slashed at her chest and back, pulling her down, trying to reach her throat. Her sword had disappeared after the first spell the gnarled old woman cast, and after throwing most of her knives already Mallory was out of defenses she could actually get to. She cursed, loudly and vehemently in Gaelic, because her mother’s native language had always flowed more easily off her tongue than her father's,  and because it felt more powerful somehow. As though the words themselves could spare her the inevitable. 

 

When she died the first time, things had happened so quickly.  One moment she had desperately brought her baseball bat down upon the device and the next she was waking up in Valhalla, every one of her hard-earned scars gone and abs of steel and so much anger…

 

Now, however, it crept ever so slowly towards her, and she was painfully aware of what was coming. There would be no return to Valhalla, no chance to battle at Ragnarok. Her body would be split open by draugr, mauled and bloody and red with splashes of spring green from the sweater her mother had loved. Her mother would have been so disappointed in her. She wasn't strong enough.

 

She heard Halfborn Gunderson roar, three draugr hanging off of him as he fought to reach her side. She saw T.J struggling against his two enemies, his back to Hoshi’s as she faced her own pair. She met her Viking friend’s eyes as he inched closer, knowing there was no chance he'd make it in time, knowing that she didn't want him to, because the only way to save her was to take her place. 

 

She tried to convey her goodbye in a glance towards him, tried to give him her usual confident grin as she punched and kicked and bit the zombies trying to tear her apart. Suddenly, a flash of blue streaked past her and her heart leapt to her throat,  “Lucrezia, no!”

 

~~~~

**Two days earlier**

 

Mallory didn't remember much from the moments after she'd died. Having a bomb explode in your face would do that to you. Lucrezia had explained that sometimes when your brains got that scrambled,  even your soul got a concussion. She supposed that must have been the case, because her only foggy memories were the searing pain of the flames licking at her cheeks, a hand gripping her waist tightly, and a flash of Lu’s electric blue hair. 

 

It didn't matter much to her, though, not remembering. The important stuff had happened after she woke up- Lucrezia’s sarcastic grin as she welcomed Mallory back to the world of the “living”, explained what had happened, introduced her to the half-wits that would become the two most important people in her life other than Lu herself. 

 

It had been days since she’d last spoken to Lucrezia- but that wasn’t out of the ordinary. Valkyries led busy lives, and Lu was one of the busiest. When she wasn’t off saving the world from giants or searching for new heroes to bring to Valhalla, she was training for Ragnarok herself- often with her mysterious friend Vik. She spoke of the man often- Mallory got the feeling that perhaps there was something more than friendship going on between the two of them. He was tall, dark haired, and completely mute. They’d become fast friends due primarily to the fact that Lu was fluent in sign language since both of her parents had been hearing impaired. Mallory didn't know much else about him, though.

 

Lucrezia always visited for Mallory’s death day, or at least sent word if she was too busy to come that particular day, stating when she could next visit. The two of them were best friends of a variety Mallory had never experienced before dying, and so nerves had settled in an angry knot in her stomach that had her lashing out angrily at Halfborn and T.J when a week had passed since then with no word. 

 

She had just sat down to dinner in the Feast Hall, blatantly ignoring her idiot shield brothers boasting about how many hits they’d gotten on the dragon before it had burnt them all to cinders when she finally realized she’d had enough. Pushing her plate to the side, she approached Gunilla, trying to look properly respectful, 

“Mallory Keen.” the Valkyrie leader addressed her with a guarded curiosity in her eyes, and Mallory bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from saying anything angry or sarcastic or stupid. Gunilla would give her nothing if she came across too forcefully. She had to be very, very careful…

“Gunilla, I know it isn’t my place, but I was wondering if…” 

 

“If I could tell you where Lucrezia is?” the woman eyed her knowingly, and Mallory tinged red, though even she couldn’t tell whether it was from frustration or embarrassment. The Valkyrie sighed, “I’m afraid I do not have an answer for you. She is aiding Thor in Jotunheim, and that is all I know at the moment.” 

 

This did nothing to loosen the knot her stomach had turned into, and she ignored the concerned glances of Halfborn and T.J as she stalked then out of the Feast Hall having barely touched her food, and headed to her quarters. 

 

She only had time to close the door when the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, and her knife was already in her hand when she spotted the man sitting on her couch, her fingers releasing it without a second thought and pleased with the satisfying  _ thunk _ she heard as it made its mark. The man made no noise at all, merely tilted his head to look at the knife curiously and pulled it out before holding up a sign with words scrawling across it as she prepared to launch herself at whatever crazy person had somehow managed to get into her rooms. 

 

**Mallory Keen, I require your help.**

 

Her help! Whomever he was, she was going to tear him limb from limb. She launched herself at him, but before she could get a good hit in, he had knocked her flat on her back. As she gasped for air and wondered how he had moved so quickly, she realized he was holding the sign in front of her so that she could not help but read the new words spreading across its surface. 

 

**There is no time for this. Lucrezia needs you.**

 

She froze, her eyes widening, “Who are you?” she asked. And why did he have that ridiculous sign? Why wasn’t he -speaking-? Or in fact making any noise at all? She could see several expressions race across his dark features, frustration, embarrassment, caution, til it finally settled on resignation and the words on the sign changed once more. 

 

**I am Vidar.**

 

-Vidar-? The -God-? What in the name of Odin was Vidar- and this explained the silence, since that was rather his thing, wasn’t it? Silent until Odin’s death at Ragnarok was avenged.- doing in her -room- asking for her help rescuing Lucrezia? 

 

**Lucrezia has told me much about you. I am...not supposed to be here at all, and I cannot stay long or my father will notice. But I need you to find her. I fear she is in grave danger…**

 

The look in his eyes was so soft, that it caught her by surprise for a moment. How did he even know Lucrezia, let alone well enough to think of her with -that- expression on his face? Why hadn’t she -mentioned- having a -relationship- with a...oh….

 

“You’re Vik.” 

Vidar’s lips pursed thoughtfully, and he sighed before shrugging and nodding. 

 

**She must have given you a false name to protect me. She knows who I am, Mallory Keen, but I am not supposed to do anything other than train for Ragnarok. Certainly not...Listen, there really is no time. You must go to Jotunheim. You must find her. I cannot stay any longer.**

 

He handed her a small stone, looking apprehensive. 

 

**If you find her. If you truly have need of my help...you can use this to summon me. Only speak her name to it, and I will find you.**

 

Mallory nodded, still stunned by these new revelations but slowly schooling her mind close so that she could focus on a rescue attempt. 

 

**I have cleared the way to the elevator, and it will take you to Jotunheim. Quickly!**

 

He disappeared a moment later, and the red head closed her eyes, hoping for just a second that this was all some kind of crazy dream. The stone was still in her hand, however, when she opened them, and her gut told her that he was right. Lucrezia needed her. 

 

And she would need her shield brothers. Luckily, they had been concerned enough to follow her out of the Feast Hall because Halfborn was banging on her door even now shouting her name, and she gave a long-suffering sigh before she opened it. Closing it quickly behind her, she met his worried eyes with her own, 

“Lucrezia is in trouble. Get your axes. T.J.- your bayonet. And dress for the cold, we’re going to Jotunheim.” 

 

She didn’t need to say anything more- at least not yet. They clearly sensed the urgency in her tone, and both turned to their rooms even as she went back into hers, digging through her drawers and pulling out the sweater her mother had knit, had worn before she had wasted away to nothing. She never wore it, afraid something might happen to it. But she’d also never been somewhere as cold as the land of Frost Giants, and she knew she’d need every layer she could get. So on it went, along with her coat, gloves, scarf. 

 

She usually wore sneakers to fight because of their maneuverability, but felt that this sort of a journey required boots and so she allowed herself to enjoy the thick clunking of the combat boots on her feet against the carpeted floors as she swept her weapons into their designated locations. Knives in her pockets, boots, even one in her bra- one could never have too many weapons- and her sword sheathed properly on her hip. 

 

Nodding once, satisfied that she had remembered everything as she picked up her backpack full of other supplies- blankets, food, a change of clothes- she exited her room. The boys had been even quicker than she in preparing, and she led them wordlessly to the elevator, 

“It’s safe to leave this way,” she assured them, and both nodded eagerly as the door slid open before them. 

~~~~

 

In the past twenty four hours, Mallory had managed to establish at least one solid fact; she hated the cold. Hated it. Even buried within her layers, the freezing tundra before them left a chill in her bones that she was becoming afraid would never leave. She stuck close to Halfborn- all that extra hair must have provided some kind of insulation because the heat came off him in waves and she wasn’t too proud to take advantage of that fact at this point. 

 

They’d been wandering after these footprints for hours now. After Mallory had explained her mission to Halfborn and T.J, they had wandered aimlessly for about an hour until Hoshi, the leader of the Valkyrie contingent aiding Thor against the Giants had stopped them. Assuming they'd been sent by the Thanes and Gunilla- something Mallory didn't care to correct- she had left her group under her second in command in order to help with the search herself. 

 

“We have been finding tracks all over this area,” Hoshi explained, motioning to the footprints stretching out into the distance before them, “for the past several weeks. Last week, Lucrezia found a fresh patch of them and insisted in tracking them down. We expected her to be gone a few hours at most.”

 

She sighed, “it isn't unusual for these kinds of things to take a while, but I will admit I was a bit worried about her. We haven't had word from her since the day she left.”

 

Mallory frowned, chewing her lip thoughtfully, “Our...sources..say that she is in trouble,” she was careful to leave Vidar out of it. While she had been unable to avoid telling her shield brothers the truth of the encounter, she felt it was best not to share that information with anyone else- particularly not one of Odin’s Valkyries. 

 

Hoshi nodded, “I expected as much. We should follow these tracks, see if they might lead us to some answers before they disappear. But first- the sun is setting, and it is much too dangerous to be out at night. Come rest at my camp, and we will set out at first light.”

 

Mallory hadn't been pleased about waiting, but T.J had almost convinced her to do it anyways, and when that hadn't worked, Halfborn had threatened to clock her over the head with the dull side of his axe and force her to unconsciousness that way. With a dirty look, she had acquiesced and they'd slept the night in a tent. 

 

That had been when Mallory first realized how much she hated the cold. Even with all her layers, and her blanket, she'd been freezing when the sun went down. So much so, in fact, that she hadn't even protested when T.J and Halfborn had settled their sleeping bags right up against hers. Worse yet, she had somehow managed to work her way into Halfborn’s arms in the middle of the night- something she was sure he would never let her live down as he claimed that he'd had no choice when she'd scooted in as close to him as possible while still asleep. 

 

The grins on both boy's faces that morning as they had begun their trudge through the snow did nothing to improve her mood, and by nightfall her mood was so bad that she had resorted to speaking only in irritated grunts and pointed glares.

 

Her stomach was still in knots over her friend, she was tired and hungry and freezing, and it seemed they were no closer to finding Lucrezia than they had been the previous night. When the footprints abruptly stopped, Mallory had let out an exasperated sigh and stomped off to the nearest tree to take out her frustration on it while the other three started setting up camp for the evening. 

 

Halfborn was the one to approach her, of course, but he spoke not a word. Instead, he launched his axe towards the tree trunk- hitting dead center between the two knives still plunged into its depths, and silently went to retrieve all three. Their fingers brushed briefly as he handed her the knives,  but she purposely ignored the blush rising to her cheeks, instead flipping the silvery metal in her hand and tossing it once more towards her target. 

 

This lasted a few more rounds before Gunderson put a hand on her wrist as she raised it to throw, standing in front of her with that soft look in his eyes that drove her mad, 

“We’ll find her,” he said gently,  “But not if you're dead on your feet with exhaustion and hunger.”

 

“Or frostbite,” Mallory spat, then sighed. He was only trying to help, “I'm sorry, Halfborn Gunderson. I just...I'm worried about her. What if we find her and she's….?” she couldn't even bring her lips to find the words. 

 

He enveloped her in what she was pretty sure was the definition of a bear hug, and she buried her nose in his chest, enjoying the feeling of -not- freezing to death. 

 

“We will deal with that if it comes.”

 

Of course he wasn't going to placate her with false hopes. They all knew there was a chance Lucrezia was already dead, and Halfborn wasn't going to lie to her about the chances. It was one of the reasons they were so close- she could trust him to tell her the truth no matter how much it might hurt. 

 

But now wasn't the time to get lost in might be’s or what if’s. And he was right- she'd be no good to her friend if she was so miserable she could barely function. So she stuffed her pride and her frustration and her worry back where they belonged, deep down where they couldn't hurt her, and pulled out of the berserker’s embrace, “C’mon.”

 

She was still pretty quiet at dinner, not in the mood for the usual chatting and ribbing at one another that T.J and Halfborn participated in. Hoshi was pleasant enough company for them, her laughter echoing through the cool night air at their antics. But she stopped sulking, at least, looking up at the stars and hoping against all chance that she would see her friend again alive. 

 

And if she draped Halfborn’s arm across her back while he sang her a lullaby that night, long after T.J and Hoshi had gone to sleep, she was willing to admit it was as much about setting her mind at ease as it was about keeping warm. 

 

~~~

 

Mallory slept better that night, and morning brought with it a new determination in her step. Hoshi flew ahead of them, scouting around for any signs of Lucrezia or at least more footprints. It was noon before she returned from one of these patrols with her eyes wide, her whole body shaking, 

“I...well…” she swallowed roughly and Mallory got a chill. If something was freaking out a Valkyrie,you -knew- it was bad.

 

“I've found her. She's injured, in a crevice just a few miles that way,” she gestured to the West, “but..there are draugr surrounding her location. She must have gone into the pit to escape them. And I can't just fly in there and get her because they could potentially just pick me right out of the sky.”

 

T.J. nodded thoughtfully as the others looked to him. Out of all of them, he was the best at tactical planning,  and while Mallory was sure that Hoshi had experience that outstripped his, she didn't know the Hall 19 squad the way he did, couldn't use their skills to her advantage the way he could. 

 

“We’ll need to distract them. Draw them out. If we can find a place to restrict their movements, tackle them one at a time, we can handle them.”

 

Hoshi tilted her head thoughtfully, “I can go look for a place to lure them in, but their numbers are larger than I have ever seen for draugr. I mean, we usually see a pair here and there, but there have to be at least a dozen in this group..”

 

Mallory narrowed her eyes thoughtfully, “A -dozen-?” she looked to her shield brothers. This was definitely not what they had expected. A dozen draugr would be more of a challenge than any of the fights they’d been in so far. Draugr were stronger than einherjar, and more fierce. Unlike her fellow members of Valhalla, they were actually reanimated corpses, and retained none of their humanity. Because of this, they felt no pain either, and were virtually unstoppable. The thing was- they only left their graves if you had their treasure...so it was very unlikely you’d see more than one or two at a time. A group this large was extremely suspicious. Why would anyone be assembling an army of mindless superstrength zombies?

 

“Be careful,” Halfborn advised, though he looked not at all worried about the horde of zombies they were going up against. Of course not. They were all supposed to die in glorious battle. But Mallory had really hoped to at least make it to Ragnarok. 

 

Hoshi took off again, and shortly after returned to direct them to a cliff. There was an iced over lake on one side of the path leading to the cliff, which would slow the  draugr as they tried to come from that direction, and they could see the approaching throng from their vantage point up high as well. Between the lake and the forest, it should funnel them into a more manageable group, though they’d be fighting in pretty close quarters on the cliff. 

 

They watched as Hoshi flew off, unable to see the creatures through the trees- but they weren’t far away since she wasn’t sure how far they’d be willing to follow her. It was a good thing, too, because when Hoshi abruptly dropped from the sky, they were able to charge to her side before the mass found her.

 

“What happened?” T.J. managed to gasp out as they reached her, the sounds of the draugr stirring in front of them. Hoshi looked pretty beaten up from her fall, but put on as brave a front as she could- injured and shaken, she shivered slightly in shock, 

“There’s a witch,” she informed them, “Hit me with a bolt...can’t fly...must have been why Lucrezia didn’t try to just fly away. If she climbed out of there in the middle of the horde…” 

 

She wouldn’t have had a chance. Her only choice had been to wait for rescue...Mallory wondered how long her friend had been in that hole. She didn’t have long to contemplate it, however, because the first of the creatures emerged from the trees a moment later. 

 

It did not take long for them to become surrounded, and while she welcomed the challenge, Mallory could not shake the very, very bad feeling she had about this whole situation. Something was about to go horribly, terribly wrong and the only thing she could do was keep sinking knives into her enemy and hope that whatever it was causing dread to run through her veins could somehow be prevented by their number. 

  
  
  


**Author’s Note: I am so sorry this is so late! I had to split it into two chapters because the Quest just wasn’t working, and needed to be longer…and then I ended up re-writing the whole thing. But! It is soooooo much better now. You don’t even know what kinda bullet you dodged by me deciding not to publish that awfulness. And hopefully I’ll get the next chapter out even -faster- since it’s half done already.**

 

**I also want to note that I -am- aware there's a level of intimacy to the Hall 19 kiddos that we don't see in the books. But, to be fair...it just seems unlikely to me that they could fight side by side every day without becoming quite close, and we don't actually see much of their normal interactions since we only get Magnus (the new guy’s) perspective on about one whole days worth of time. Also, most of the cuddling is happening out of the public eye, and I think it's not unreasonable to assume Mallory is the sort of person who wants to project a certain image that may not really be the whole story around those she is truly comfortable with.**

 

**There will also be an ‘incident’ in a later chapter that helps explain some of Mallory’s more standoffish behaviour towards Halfborn in particular  during Sword of Summer. For now, just enjoy the fluff. XD**

****


	4. I'm Still Here

_And how can you learn what's never shown?_  
_Yeah, you stand here on your own_  
_They don't know me 'cause I'm not here_  
_And I want a moment to be real_  
_Wanna touch things I don't feel_  
_Wanna hold on and feel I belong_  
_And how can the world want me to change?_  
_They're the ones that stay the same_  
_They don't know me 'cause I'm not here_  
_And you see the things they never see_  
_All you wanted I could be_  
_Now you know me and I'm not afraid_  
_And I wanna tell you who I am_  
_Can you help me be a man?_  
_They can't break me as long as I know who I am_  
_And I want a moment to be real_  
_Wanna touch things I don't feel_  
_Wanna hold on and feel I belong_  
_And how can the world want me to change?_  
_They're the ones that stay the same_  
_They can't see me but I'm still here_

_I’m Still Here- Goo Goo Dolls_

Without thinking about it, Mallory had grasped the stone Vidar gave her when she screamed her friend's name. The girl saw Lucrezia’s battered form- she had clearly tried to fight all these draugr by herself before seeking refuge- launch towards the witch in a desperate bid to come between the creature and Mallory. Mallory had always been jealous of her friend's beauty- she was built like a model. Tall with curves in all the right places, flawless skin, perfect hair. Now, however, bloodied and scraped and lit with the silver bolt running through her heart, her features turned sickening.

Uglier still was the horrified, heartbroken look on the Silent God’s face as he caught Lucrezia’s body before she even touched the ground. She reached up to brush her fingers along his cheek softly, “I'm not dead yet.”

Her voice was so weak it made Mallory want to cry, but she held herself together. Her friend might still be all right, and now they had Vidar….

The God of Vengeance lived up to his name. Cradling Lucrezia like a doll in one arm, his massive sword swept through the witch, her startled look at seeing the god before her etched forever on her face as her head separated from the rest of her body. It was said that Vidar’s strength was second only to that of Thor, and Mallory believed it, watching the way his sword sliced through the draugr like tissue paper.

He gave Mallory a dark look once all the creatures had been dispatched, pulling Lucrezia into his arms bridal-style and disappearing.

Mallory cursed. He was right, of course. She should have summoned him sooner. But he'd said only if they were truly in need, and the truth was that she had thought they could handle things themselves up until the moment Lucrezia darted in front of her. Stunned, she turned to her companions- none of which seemed to have any words for what had just happened. Snatching up her sword, Mallory started to walk towards the Valkyrie camp, not wanting to stick around with the guilt that threatened to overwhelm her.

  
~~~~  
When they got back to Floor 19, the shock started to wear off. The ragged shreds of her sweater got dumped into the garbage bin without a word. Mallory was unsure things could have gone much worse. Lucrezia was gone. She might never see her again. She was never going to walk back through her door and watch horrible movies with her with the sound turned off so they could make up their own story. Her mother’s sweater was destroyed beyond all repair. All of them would have been killed if Vidar hadn't shown up when he did, if Lu hadn't sacrificed herself.

She felt Halfborn’s hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off, “Mallory Keen..” His voice was soft, but she could feel the tears starting to burn in her eyes and she did -not- want to cry in front of them again. Not right now. Not when she was still feeling the loss and guilt so harshly. The Viking tried to grab her arm, pull her away from her room, but she glared at him, “I’m not leaving you,” she said, her voice crackling with the tears she refused to cry, “But I need some time.”

He still looked concerned, and T.J. opened his mouth to say something, but she took the opportunity to duck into her room and slam the door shut behind her.

She stayed in her room for the rest of the day. T.J. slipped notes under her door every hour, and she scribbled a return note on the back to let them know she was still with them, just needed more time. The following evening, however, there was a thud against her door, and the soft Viking lullaby she hadn't heard in years before this week came drifting through the cracks.

She gave herself a moment, took a few deep breaths, washed the tears from her face, and opened the door. Halfborn was there with his back against where the door had been, T.J sitting on the floor across from him. The look on their faces broke her heart, and she stepped out of her room, closing the door and sitting down next to him, “I...I'm sorry.”

T.J gave her a smile that didn't reach his eyes, a tender, sad look still in them, “it wasn't your fault, Mallory.”

She threw herself into T.J's arms, sobbing uncontrollably. She didn't care that her tears were soaking his shirt, or that she must look like an awful mess. They had seen her at her worst before, and she knew they'd be there for her when she was at her worst again. That's what it was like, having people who truly cared about you.

After a while, she pulled away, her eyes meeting Halfborn’s as she sat down next to T.J “You didn't have to sing for me,” she offered with a wobbly smile. Halfborn shrugged, a sheepish look overcoming the sadness that seemed to be fading to relief on his face, “I didn't. But I thought...it might help you feel better.”

She believed in their cause. She did. More than she had ever believed in anything in her entire life. She wanted to die gloriously in battle, to give her life in order to protect the world. She had never doubted it, and still didn't. She was having a hard time, however, reconciling losing those she loved to it. Lu was just the beginning. One day T.J would die too, whether at Ragnarok or before. And Halfborn. And she wasn't sure she could cope with that.

“You just have to keep going,” Halfborn was saying softly, “it's hard, and it sucks. But you take away from what she has sacrificed, what we will all choose to sacrifice, if you make it about you.”

And then he was sitting next to her with his arm around her shoulders, his fingers were combing the tangles out of her hair, and she sighed as she rested her cheek against his chest. He was right, of course. They had just as much right to die for the sake of the world as she did. And sulking about it like this...it took away from the beauty of what she had done. Lucrezia had given her life in service of Odin, and to protect her, whether or not she was actually dead. The least she could do was honour her choice, respect her right to make it. She had to continue to fight, train, win. Because if she let go now, like this, everything they had done was in vain.

“Thank you,” she said softly, her eyes meeting T.J.’s as she curled against the Viking, “for...everything.” she didn't see how, but it was possible Vidar had managed to keep Lucrezia alive somehow. She just had to hold on to that thought.

T.J. smiled, “I've been there before. So has Halfborn - it was a little easier for us, we'd been fighting on the battlefield even before we came here, had already lost friends and family in Midgard, learned to cope there. But Mallory...don't shut us, out. If we are all going to make it to Ragnarok, we need to stick together.”

She nodded, though now that the initial rush of emotion and sadness was starting to fade, she felt her cheeks brighten. She had somehow managed to climb into Halfborn’s lap, his hands sending tingles through her scalp that she was only just noticing. He was undressed for bed, and she was only just realizing what an...intimate position they were in. Right there. With T.J. staring at them.

Slowly, because she didn't want him to think she was angry at him or anything- though she was starting to feel angry at herself as her heart began pounding in her ears- she untangled herself, getting to her feet, “I uh…” why was her pulse racing? This was Halfborn! Her shield brother! She thought she'd pushed away those hormones years ago...and now really, -really- wasn't the time for them. Still, she felt heat creeping over her entire body as she said, “would you mind if- if we all slept out here tonight?”

Halfborn looked concerned again, probably because she was acting like an idiot, but nodded, “of course.”

“I'll get my sleeping bag..”

She entered her room as slowly as she could, trying to mask how she was feeling and closing the door behind her. The moment it shut, she closed her eyes. Her breathing was fast, her heart faster, her stomach feeling almost like she might get sick. He had sat outside her door, singing to her. Because that's who he was- as tough as he might look, as fierce as he was on the battlefield, Halfborn Gunderson was a person who loved with all his heart, who gave everything he had to those he cared about. Who would do anything to make them smile. It was one of the things she lo- liked about him.

She took a few deep breaths, hoping to end the fluttering of her heart. It was just because she was so emotionally wrung out and he so kind. That's all. She was in a weird, vulnerable place right now and her hormones were taking advantage of it. Everything would be fine. She just needed to keep her head.

She grabbed her sleeping bag and headed back out. Her ears were still red, and catching a look at him standing out there with nothing but his boxers on did not help her hormones, but she pushed it all aside, focusing on T.J for the moment because he, at least, she could look at without feeling like she was about to collapse.

“Are you all right?” T.J.’s voice was gentle as he headed towards the common with her following close behind.

“I'll be okay. I just...don't want to be alone for a while.”

He nodded, heading into his room to get his own sleeping bag as Mallory and Halfborn made their way to the sitting area. She lay her sleeping bag down, and Halfborn settled his right next to hers again, “do you want me to sing?”

She nodded, burrowing deeper into her bag as T.J returned and set up his bag on her other side, the two of them forming a barrier of strength against the nightmares she was sure would otherwise follow. Mallory closed her eyes, “Night, Halfborn Gunderson, T.J..”

“Goodnight, Mallory Keen.”

“Night, Mallory.”

Halfborn stroked her hair again as he sang to her, and maybe it felt really nice and her cheeks were burning as she fell asleep. But it would go away once she was feeling better, she was sure of it. She drifted off to a deep, blissfully dreamless sleep.

~~~  
  
The following evening, the Thanes announced that Lucrezia had been granted the position of einherjar in the army of Odin. She would be staying, however, with Vidar in Asgard to assist him in training for Ragnarok.  
“In happier news,” Leif Erikson continued as Mallory mulled over whether or not she felt awful about what she’d just been told. Lucrezia was alive..well, as alive as -she- was anyhow, which was really sort of not-dead more than it was alive, but...she wouldn’t see her again until Ragnarok, if then. It was strange, a different kind of ‘gone’ than she had yet experienced- and she had been through everything from becoming einherjar to losing people to Helheim or the Ginnungagap to those who had gone in their rooms and never come out again. She was so tired of losing people, of letting it go. Her attention snapped back to Leif as the words left his lips, however,  
“we have a new Valkyrie- the All-Father has chosen Samirah al-abbas, daughter of Loki, to join our ranks.”

The room broke out in chaos instantly. A daughter of -Loki-? What could Odin possibly be thinking? The last child of Loki...Mallory shuddered as she watched the small, dark-haired girl with a scarf covering her head. The girl stood, bravely ignoring everyone’s reactions and meeting Mallory’s gaze with fire in her eyes.

Perhaps Mallory thought briefly, amused, Odin -does- know what he’s doing.

Because she could believe, seeing this Samirah up there at the Valkyrie’s table, that this girl could do just about anything she set her mind to. That look...she’d seen the same one in the mirror every day since she’d come to Valhalla.

  
**Author's Note: I'm so sorry this took forever! I got a nasty sinus infection that threw me off for two whole weeks, and then some family stuff started up, etc. ...**

**Anyhow, here is a mini-chapter. It was going to be a full chapter with what's now the next chapter, but it just wasn't flowing right and I wanted to put something out for those who might be waiting on it. After the next chapter is finished, I will upload all three final pieces of the story. ^^ Let me know what you think!**

 

**ETA: Wow. there was some really bad editing in this- fixed it now, should make a bit more sense.**


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